In Love and War
by Lady Feylene
Summary: In love and war, edges blur and blend and fade into obscurity. Friendship becomes more in the face of hardship. (Slash SSER)
1. Default Chapter

  
  
  
  
  
  


Disclaimer: Characters herein are not mine, they belong to JK Rowling. I *wish* they were mine, but...ah well. No money is being made off of this.

  
  


Author: Lady Feylene

  
  


Archive: Sure, just ask.

  
  


Title: In Love and War

  
  


Warning: Male on male situations. Mild bad language. Some very mild sexual situations.

  
  


Pairing: ??/??

  
  


Rating: PG-13 version

  
  


Spoilers: Er....GoF, I guess....maybe....

  
  


Summary: Love is a difficult and oftentimes painful thing...

  
  


Author's Note: I've left the identity of both characters in this story a mystery on purpose. I'm not sure why I did it, I just enjoyed it. Eventually, in the second half, names and situations *will* be revealed. So far, only one person has guessed the identities of the characters, and that's because she's my wife and she knows me too damn well. If you can guess though, trust me, you deserve to be worshiped. Well, if you guess the narrator, anyway...

  
  
  
  


In Love and War

  
  
  
  
  
  


It's hard to be me.

  
  


I've come to that conclusion. Yes, I'm wealthy. Yes I come from one of the oldest wizarding bloodlines out there. Yes I'm one of the best bloody Keepers Britain has seen in years. Yes I'm a major part in a war effort, and responsible for more then a few small victories. But I've got this nagging problem that makes all of those things completely obsolete. See, I'm madly in love with my best friend, and I've no idea what to do about it.

  
  


You'd love him too, if you saw him the way I did. I'd watch him at night, sometimes, when he'd be sprawled out on his bed studying. I loved the way his hair sort of fell over his face, so it would be all in shadow. And the way he sort of waved his quill around and mumbled to himself when he'd be working something out. And the way his eyes got very bright, when he'd figured something out. His quill would scribble over the parchment like it was on fire, and his lips would curve up into what I guess had to be called a smile. I loved it.

  
  


But therein lies the problem. We've been best friends for how long now? Since we started school. Since we ended up in the same compartment on the train, in the same House. I can still remember the first time I laid eyes on him...

  
  


He was so small. That was the first thing I noticed about him. How small he was. Not underfed or anything, just...petite. And he had this wide-eyed expression as he wandered around the platform. Something about him caught me, even though at age eleven I had no use for words like 'love' and 'lust' and 'desire'. I just knew I really liked that small boy with the big eyes and all the books.

  
  


We spoke on the train. He was...amazing. He talked quickly, the words just tumbling out of his mouth. He talked about everything he wanted to learn, and what a wonderful school we were going to, and how grand and exciting it was all going to be!

  
  


Well, it was certainly exciting. Never a dull moment, no matter what. Me, I liked my fun. I still do, makes me good at what I do. And we sure had fun in school. Me more then him, I think. He went along with me, but never for the fun.

  
  


He was always a little too serious for it. Oh, he tried, and he was definitely creative enough for it. He was just...a little too mean. Not that I blame him. I don't, in the least. So he had a mean streak in him, so what? Plenty of kids did. And maybe some of the things he came up with to pull were a little...dangerous. Call it training. We're fighting a war here. And you can't stop to wonder if what you're doing is mean or cruel. 

  
  


These are bad times. Real bad times. We've already lost too many of our number to count. At least as far as I'm concerned. They're damn strong, and I don't know about him, but I'm damn scared.

  
  


Wait, no. I do know about him. He's not scared at all. He's never been scared, since this whole thing started. He's been perfectly calm and confident. He claims we're going to win this, hands down. We shouldn't even be worried. No matter how bad things look right now, we're going to come out on top. And all of us chums from school, well we'll be fine.

  
  


I wish I could believe him. I really wish I could. But...call me a pessimist. I just hope he makes it. He's too...beautiful, not to. He's perfection, in everything he does. The way he moves, the way he walks, the way he talks...

  
  


Why did I have to fall in love with him? Why couldn't I fall in love with some girl and marry her and have hundreds of children? Because I had to spend seven years of my life sleeping in the bed next to his, sitting in the seat next to his, talking and scheming and plotting with him...

  
  


It was always him and me, you see. Oh no, of course we weren't alone in the dorm. But even amongst our other friends, it was him and me. After class, walking in the halls. In the library, in the common room. Maybe it's because we were together from the start. Even before the sorting, we had this special bond. And it's never faded. On my end, it's only gotten stronger.

  
  


I don't think that's a good thing. I don't know where he stands on...well, anything. He's never had a girlfriend or a boyfriend, that I know of. And I'd know. He told me everything. He still does.

  
  


"What?"

  
  


He's watching me. He's sitting in a chair, legs tucked up under him, book in his hands.

  
  


"Nothing." I say, an easy lie. I've always lied to him. Some friend I am, I suppose.

  
  


"You're lying." But he's looking at his book now, not me. "I can tell when you are, you know."

  
  


"I'm just worried." I give a shrug.

  
  


"You've no reason to be." He assures me. "We're going to come out on top, I promise you that. No matter what it takes..."

  
  


"Oh?" He's always so damn serious. It drives me nuts, because I'm not serious in the least.

  
  


"Of course. Good always triumphs over evil." He tells me, flipping a page idly.

  
  


"But who says what's what?" I push, and he just rolls his eyes. I want to kiss him. 

  
  


He doesn't know what he means to me. He's stood by me, through it all. I'm here, because of him. I'm not a fighter, but I will be for him. This isn't my cause, it's his. But I'll wave my banner and my sword, if in his name and no other.

  
  


"You need to focus your attention on your efforts." He says. "You've been getting lax. You nearly got yourself killed the other day."

  
  


"Only because that daft git who's supposedly spying for us is a moron." It hadn't been my fault. Our supposed 'spy' hadn't exactly had the right information. Me, I'm not so sure he's on our side, but oh well. I'm not running things around here. 

  
  


"You still have to watch yourself." He puts down his book and looks at me really intently. He has the most amazing eyes. I can lose myself in them. They're haunted and they're deep and they look right through me. It's like he's reading my mind, sometimes. 

  
  


"Hey, I'll be fine." I tell him. I want so badly to kiss him. 

  
  


"Remember...we have that raid tomorrow." He frowns, and I decide I never want to see him frown again. 

  
  


"That's a piece of cake." I tell him. And it will be. We both know exactly what we have to do. We've gone over it hundreds of times, and nothing's going to go wrong. 

  
  


"You're exceedingly confident." His lips twitch up in a half smile. "Don't get too cocky...pride goes before a fall, you know."

  
  


'Oh come on...I'm as humble as they come!"

  
  


We both laugh at this, because I'm anything but. He's the humble one. But he's the better of us, I think. 

  
  


"What are you really thinking?" He asks me, and his hands are folded over his book as he watches me. 

  
  


"Really?" I repeat. "I'm thinking about you."

  
  


"Me?" One eyebrow shoots up, and I've never seen him taken aback like that. I like it. 

  
  


"Yeah, you." I say. 

  
  


"What, pray tell, are you thinking about me?"

  
  


Well I'm thinking about how much I want to kiss him, and hold him close, and take him away from war and death and danger. But I can't say that. He'll laugh, maybe, or tell me I'm being foolish. Or he'll be angry. The oddest things anger him, really.

  
  


"Just about how much you've changed, since we first met." I say, and it's true. In a way.

  
  


"We've both changed." He says, and he rests his chin in his hand. "We've come quite far, from the awkward first years we were. Honestly, I'm amazed i even survived my school years."

  
  


His voice get's bitter, and I can't read his eyes. He always does this. I mean, I want to tell him that he's overreacting, he didn't have it *that* bad. And for every shot he took, he got one back. Or I did for him.

  
  


But I'll never forget that night, when he came into the dorm room so late. I waited up for him, what else could I do? He had said he had something important to do, nothing more. And to this day I don't what it was, but I know it was bad.

  
  


He was shaking, and he wouldn't say a word. He just crawled into bed, white as a ghost. I climbed in next to him, and he curled up to me, and he was cold as ice. I held him close, and I asked him what was wrong, but he just shook his head. It's the only time, I think, that I've ever seen him scared. He let me hold him, and rub his back, and talk him softly until he finally fell asleep. 

  
  


I've never touched him like that before or since.

  
  


He's never talked about it since, neither of us have. Except weird little allusions like that. He has his secret, and I have mine.

  
  


"Well you did." I say, cheekily. "And I'm happy for it."

  
  


"Well of course you are. If I were dead, who would put up with you?"

  
  


"Ah, there's some." I say, but I wouldn't want anyone but him.

  
  


"No, there aren't." He says. "You're a prat and an ignorant and an egotist, and there isn't another soul on this earth that would put up with what I have. And honestly, I've no idea why I have."

  
  


But his eyes are sort of sparkling. Like diamonds. He's joking. He always does. He doesn't have the best sense of humor...he's more sarcasm and whit then I'll ever understand.

  
  


"Because you love me." I say, and he groans. 

  
  


"I most certainly do not." But he's smiling as much as he ever does. 

  
  


"Well, sorry, cause I love you." Even in jesting, it feels good to say it. He tilts his head to the side though, and he purses his lips together and regards me very carefully. Now it's my turn to be put off. "What?"

  
  


"Nothing." He shrugs. "I suppose I'm thinking of you, as well."

  
  


"Oh? What about?" I don't have his way with words, I never will.

  
  


"That I am not a man much given over to bouts of emotional prose." He shrugs.

  
  


"I know *that*. When my mum hugged you at graduation, you looked like you were gonna be sick."

  
  


"I don't like being touched." He says, with a half shrug. "But..." He trails off, and sighs heavily. "You must be aware, that after all of these years, I feel...towards you."

  
  


"I know." It's as good as I'm ever going to get, out of him.

  
  


"Good. I simply wished to make that clear."

  
  


"And you have." 

  
  


There's a silence. What now? I want to cross the distance between us, and lay my head in his lap and simply be close to him. But he doesn't allow touching, not like that.

  
  


"Did you..." He trails off, and he looks away. I'm intrigued.

  
  


"Did I what?" I press. He gives a great sigh, and he's not looking at me while he talks.

  
  


"Did you ever...wish to be...like them?"

  
  


I don't need to ask who 'they' are. I know exactly who 'they' are. And..I guess that yeah, in a way I wanted to be like them. Though only in the dead of night in the darkest corners of my mind.

  
  


"Sometimes.' I admit. "But...we have everything they do."

  
  


"Do we?" He looks at me now, and i know this is really bothering him. "Do we really?"

  
  


"Course we do. We're no different then them. We just....got *looked* at different."

  
  


"I believe that's the most profound thing I've ever heard you say." And he's looking at me like it's the first time he's ever seen me.

  
  


"I have my moments. But it's true. We've got each other, same as any of them did."

  
  


"I suppose you're right." He rubs the bridge of his nose. He has a headache. I've learned to tell these things. And I don't know why he suffers through them, when he has a million and one solutions for every ache and pain the human body prone to. It's like he likes them, or something. And he's been getting them a lot lately.

  
  


"Don't worry about stuff like that. I told you back in school, and I'll tell you now: they're going to get what they deserve. We all do, in the end."

  
  


"Do we now?" He asks. He's getting all heavy and philosophical.

  
  


"Yea, we do. Come on...you're getting weird. Let's hit the hay, huh?"

  
  


"I am not getting weird, I'm serious." He says. "What is it about them that made them so...so..."

  
  


"Adored? Loved? Worshiped? Idolized..."

  
  


"You *can* shut up now." He snaps. 

  
  


"I know what you mean." He has a point. "We're no different...well, we were better then them. We knew when to draw the line. They never did. As far as grades go, you should have come out on top. You're smarter then any of them ever were. And hell, we had a better team but....luck was never with us."

  
  


"And you're certainly better looking then any of them." He adds. I grin a little.

  
  


"Aw, you're handsome too." I tell him, and he just glares at me.

  
  


"I'm afraid the rest of the world is not of your opinion."

  
  


"They don't matter." I say. "You've never cared what the world thinks of you."

  
  


"Of course not, the world doesn't matter. Come...you're right, it's late and we have an important task ahead of us tomorrow." He gets up, and I stand up too, and I feel like this is an important moment. Like something's about to change.

  
  


"I meant what I said." I tell him softly.

  
  


"You said many things tonight."

  
  


"That I love you."

  
  


"Ah." He nods. "Yes, I meant that as well."

  
  


We're staring at each other now. I close the distance between us, and I find my lips are pressed against his, my hands on his shoulders. And he doesn't push me away. He returns my kiss, and we climb the stairs tangled togther and we fall to bed wrapped in each other's arms.

  
  


He let's me make love to him. It's beautiful, it really is, the way he melts under my touch. The way he moans my name, the way he shudders and thrashes in a way that is completely unlike him.

  
  


We lay together afterwards, and he's warm in my arms. Not like the only other time I held him, when he was so damn cold and frightened.

  
  


I hold him, and he's pressed tight against me and everything feels right. I'll tell you, I've had my doubts through thing. I've wondered if I've made the right choice, if I'm on the right side. But now, with him, here beside me, I stand by my choice. And I'll stand by it till the day I die.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


This piece was inspired by these song lyrics:

  
  


Remember when you were young, 

you shone like the sun. 

Shine on you crazy diamond. 

Now there's a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky. 

Shine on you crazy diamond. 

You were caught on the crossfire of childhood and stardom, 

blown on the steel breeze. 

Come on you target for faraway laughter, come on you stranger, you legend, you martyr, and shine! You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon. 

Shine on you crazy diamond. 

Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light. 

Shine on you crazy diamond. 

Well you wore out your welcome with random precision, rode on the steel breeze.

Come on you raver, you seer of visions, come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine! 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. II

  
  


Warning: Still slash.

  
  
  
  
  
  


IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: This picks up *exactly* where the previous chapter left off, BUT THE NARRATOR SWITCHES. The two characters are now reversed! 

  
  


And so far, still, only my beloved wife has figured out the pairing. And my friend Tara, after guessing every possible combination she could think of, including some even *I* hadn't a clue to! But really, as I said, the narrator from chapter one (who is now the secondary character) is *insanely* obscure! His entire physical appearance was created by me, as is everything else except the fact that he existed and knew the other character.

  
  
  
  


In Love and War

II

  
  
  
  


It amazes me, truly, what has just transpired. I suppose I must have known, on some subjacent level of my mind that his feelings for me ran something deeper then the friendship we so often expressed. But I've never been a man given to thoughts of a carnal or amorous nature. They simply had no place in my thoughts. Not as a young man, nor as the man I am now. 

  
  


But, were I forced to choose an outlet for my baser desires, it would be him. Physically, he is striking. In a subdued way, I imagine. Hair like copper, eyes like emeralds, his manner is my opposite. He is loud and raucous with a love of trickery. And he smiles far too much. A man should never smile unless he has a good reason. Though, I suppose he feels he always has reason.

  
  


His manner translates to the bedroom. I've never had a lover before, of my own choosing. Though perhaps that's a lie carried over from my cataclysmal school hood days. I was certainly on the introverted side, and the opposite sex was a mystery to me, let alone my own. And after *they* were done with me, I can hardly think of anyone other then him who would want me.

  
  


But those days are gone, and I have moved beyond them. Enough, I suppose. I have him. I have always had him. He has stood by my side since I first set foot on the god forsaken train. And he has-though I am loathe to admit it-stood up for me when I was...indisposed to defend my own honor.

  
  


And besides, he was always better with a hex then I was.

  
  


And now I lay in his arms, a lover. I am exhausted. I've indulged in self pleasure on occasion-I *was* a teenager not that long ago. But to be at the mercy of his flashing eyes and his clever tongue...

  
  


I can only hope I matched his attentions. Though he seems satisfied.

  
  


"I love you."

  
  


I abhor the words. They're frivolous, really. He tells me he loves me. I have heard him extol his love for his mother, his broom, his House, Charms, his pet cat, and cheese. Oftentimes in the same day. So an admission of love-even from him, who I know to be passionately honest-does not move me. But what he has shown me with hands and lips...

  
  


I do, of course, return his affections. I have heard great friendships sung to the heavens...what of ours? It is as he said earlier. We were seen as so different. Why, I cannot imagine. It is this division that splits our world in two. They will feel rather stupid, really, for following such a ridiculous cause. Those that survive at any rate. Perhaps it may look rather bad at the moment, but I know that we will triumph. It is inconceivable that we would not.

  
  


He worries, I believe. It is ridiculous for him to be so frightened. He has never been given over to fear, rather he is brave to the point of nausea. Which leads to recklessness, despite all of my warnings to him. He refuses to listen. Just last week he nearly got himself killed, by dismissing caution. 

  
  


But he is ridiculously lucky. I have discovered that. I have watched him, seen him pull off the most ludicrous stunts-things he damn well would have been expelled for had he been caught-with no repercussions. From lack of being caught, of course. Had any trail ever led to his name, he would have been expelled before one could say hippogryff. Because he wasn't one of the golden ones, those who could do no wrong...

  
  


I'd imagine they're learning their lesson now. 

  
  


"You haven't said anything you know...."

  
  


He's looking at me, and I believe he is worried. Perhaps he fears he has done wrong, or hurt me in some manner. Certainly the initial entering was unpleasant, but I have felt far worse.

  
  


"I didn't think I was required to add on commentary." I say.

  
  


"But...you're okay with everything, right?"

  
  


"Of course." I look up at him. He looks tousled, but he always does. 

  
  


"You'd tell me right, it you I did anything wrong?"

  
  


"Oh good lord...had I not wished to sleep with you, I would have put a stop to events before we ended up in bed."

  
  


"Okay." He still seems unnerved. He should know me well enough by now. He knows me better then I imagine I know myself. There is nothing, truly, that I have kept from him. Except, of course, The Incident. But were I at liberty to speak of it, I would have. And considering what he did the following day, he had a damn good idea of what happened. Or at least who had done it...

  
  


"We truly should get to sleep." I remind him. It will be just us, tomorrow. We have been trusted with a task of great magnitude. And great risk. He is careless enough as it is, I would rather not add lack of sleep to his handicaps.

  
  


"Aw....no cuddling?" He jests, and his arms around me are strangely comforting. He is one of the few people I allow to touch me in an intimate manner. 

  
  


My feelings on him are confused at best. I am aware that I love him, lacking as the word is. But beyond that it dissolves into chaos. Certainly before he kissed me I did not love him as paramour. I loved him as...my best friend, I suppose. A brother, perhaps. But now I know my feelings are of a different nature.

  
  


Such a horrid time for it, really. I have no fear for either of our lives, as long as I am with him I can keep his neck out of anything truly lethal. I simply fear for our ability to nurture this newfound kinship. It will, sadly, have to wait until the war is over. 

  
  


I oftentimes wonder what he's doing here. He never struck me as one to crusade and rally behind any cause, this one least of all. I would have sent him to the other side, truly. But he is here, and he is certainly not a spy or anything so ridiculous as that. He is a devout member of our ranks. If a nonchalant one. 

  
  


"I mean it." My voice is stern, and the smile fades from his lips. "We must have our wits about us tomorrow. I wish this to go as quickly and smoothly as possible."

  
  


"Yeah." He nods, and he presses his body close against mine. It's strange, this tangle of limbs we have become. I imagine we must look ridiculous, wrapped up together as we are. But it can be excuse. It feels...good. I have only ever slept beside him once before, and I do not enjoy thinking on it. To lay with him after a glorious session of love making, however...

  
  


"You got an alarm set?" He asks, and he yawns. He is....elfin, truly. I've never noticed before, but a truly elfish cast lends itself to his features. 

  
  


"Of course I do!" He must ask that? He is truly in need of sleep. His eyes are misted over and unfocused. I've seen him like that many times, most often tottering over a textbook at three in the morning before finals. 

  
  


"No need to get testy." He kisses me, before closing his eyes and tucking the covers up under his chin. He is asleep within seconds. It amazes me, truly. He is so vibrant and full of energy, and then he is dead to the world. I cannot help but smile at him, as I watch him sleep.

  
  


I know I cannot afford to watch him long, however. He may underestimate the seriousness of our situation, but I do not. He accuses me of being overcautious, but it has saved my life more times then I care to recount. Another habit left over from my misspent youth.

  
  


Kicking the covers off-I hate to be so covered up-I close my eyes and steady my breathing. I can feel sleep, dancing about on the edges of my mind. But it is hard to find, I am discovering, when one has just lost ones virginity to ones best friend.

  
  


Things have changed between us. And that is not a terrible thing. In fact, I am inclined to believe it is a very favorable situation indeed.

  
  


After tomorrow, we will have to sit down and discuss in depth our exact relationship. And much as I loathe talking, I believe I am looking forward to it.

  
  


But we shall get through tomorrow, first.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
  



	3. III

  
  
  
  


AUTHOR'S NOTE: We switch view points back to the original! I'm switching back and forth, each chapter. Still no one but my wife has guessed correctly.

  
  


So to Astrid...I'd suggest you stop reading now...

  
  
  
  


In Love and War

III

  
  
  
  


I could bloody kill him! Me, I figure an alarm would be you know, a timed lumos spell. Something like that. Not a screaming, piercing alarm sound! I wake up feeling like someone just drove their wand through my ears. And it's not pleasant. And he just yawns and flicks his wand, and off goes the spell.

  
  


"You're sadistic." I tell him, frowning.

  
  


"I'd rather not oversleep." He says, evenly.

  
  


This is amazing. We're still kind of tangled up together, and he's the first thing I see when I wake up. I can die happy now. It's morning-way too early for my tastes, and here he is. He looks good in the morning. He's all mussed. I never get to see him all mussed up during the day.

  
  


"I can't imagine you oversleeping." I tell him, and I roll over so my back's pressed against his chest. He puts one hand on my arm, sort of nervous like. That's fine. He's not the touchy feely type, I know this. It's fine. It's not a big deal.

  
  


"We need to get up." He tells me, as he climbs out of bed. I just lay there, watching him. He shoots me a rather drity look and throws on a robe.

  
  


"Just admiring the view!" I wink at him and he shakes his head.

  
  


"Seriousness today. Please." He asks me like he'd be asking a little kid. I sigh, and I roll out of bed as well. I hate waking up. The whole process of no longer being wrapped in my fuzzy cocoon of sleep is a bitch. But once I'm up, I'm up. And believe me, now I'm up.

  
  


We shower, and he ignores any attempt I make to rouse some of that amazing passion I saw last night. He keeps reminding me how important this is, and how I have to stay focused. Please! I know what I'm doing. What happened, before, wasn't my fault. Our information was crap. I did what I was supposed to do, and yeah, I barely got out of there with my hide intact.

  
  


This is different. This time, nothing can go wrong. But he's always like this. So careful, so meticulous....comes with the territory. That's why he's so damn good at what he does. Me, I don't have the patience and I don't pretend to. Love watching him though. Love the way he frowns when he's working on something hard, the way his fingers move. He's got amazing fingers.

  
  


"We need to gather out supplies."

  
  


We're both dressed now, and he's frowning at a little bit of parchment in his hands. I peer over his shoulder, and he shoos me away. It's just a list of stuff we need.

  
  


"It's wicked early!" I complain, and he just narrows his eyes at me.

  
  


"Regardless of the fact that we aren't moving until the night, we had best get ourselves prepared immediately." 

  
  


"You have got to relax." I put my hands on his hips, and he just sighs. "I mean it. You're too uptight. Everything's going to be fine."

  
  


"As long as we are both alert and prepared." He leans his head against mine though, and we share a pretty sweet moment. Maybe he is really worried. I can't tell. I can never tell what he's feeling, or what he's thinking.

  
  


"Yeah, yeah yeah." I let go of him, but I kiss him real quick before hand. He gets this funny look on his face for a second, but it's gone as soon as I see it. Weird, but oh well. I'll ask him about it later. I get the feeling if I mention anything other then our impending mission I'm going to get my arse kicked.

  
  


"Come on." He turns away very quickly. It's almost like he's pissed. But he was fine last night. Stupid mood swings, they piss me off.

  
  


I follow after him, though. I would anyway, but I've got no choice. We have to see some people, to get everything we need. We *do* have to be careful, we're sneaking into a heavily warded area. That's why I'm going. I'm a damn god at curse breaking (and setting) and I can identify the handful of traps we don't know specifics on. And he's going because he's trusted, and he's quick and good at getting in and out of places.

  
  


We make a damn good team, really. Always have, always will. 

  
  


He does all the talking. He's got a way with words, and he can hold his temper better then I can. Which turns out is a good thing. So much for nothing going wrong.

  
  


"We were promised at least one invisibility cloak."

  
  


His voice is quiet, and I know that tone. He's not happy. We were supposed to have the cloaks. A failsafe. A 'just in case' measure. And it looks like we don't.

  
  


"M sorry, sir, but we canna give yeh what we donna have." The elderly man-who's name I don't know-shrugs apologetically. 

  
  


"Fine. This matter will be taken up with higher authorities." He glares at the old man, and then turns real quick on his heel. I just scoff, and follow after him.

  
  


"We don't need them..." I day, cautiously. He whirls around, black eyes blazing.

  
  


"It is not a matter of need!"

  
  


"Hey, calm down! No one's going to be there...."

  
  


"It does not matter." He takes a deep breath, like he's trying to calm himself down. "We were told we would have them."

  
  


"Things happen." I shrug. It doesn't matter to me. They're bothersome things anyway. I always trip over them, and forget I'm wearing one. 

  
  


"They should not. Not with something of this magnitude." He frowns, and folds his arms. "This does not bode well."

  
  


"Oh for crying out loud!" I shake my head. He's absolutely impossible, he really is. But I love him, so it's okay. "It's one little thing."

  
  


"Haven't you heard the saying? 'Trouble has three faces'. This is simply the first."

  
  


"Everything's going to be fine." I parrot his words back at him. "Come on...we've got to go over those defenses once more."

  
  


"They are quite complex."

  
  


"I know." Why he feels the need to state this, I don't know. He's pissed over this stupid cloak thing. But we go to the library, and he pulls out all the scrolls. He's going to go over it with me again. In case I've forgotten since last night.

  
  


"There's an audvigolious ward around the door we will be using." He narrows his eyes at me. "It is an advanced form of..."

  
  


"I can break it in my sleep!"

  
  


"And the conspectus charm?"

  
  


"Piece of cake." They might as well gift wrap those plans for us!

  
  


"The ensiscaria?" He raises an eyebrow.

  
  


"I've studied it, I've practiced it." I assure him. It's the only one I'm a little shaky on. It's a hell of a curse...slices you right in two. Damn good for a ward, though. It's tricky to break, but I'm up to it.

  
  


"Practice again." His tone is dark. It just takes one damn thing to set him off, doesn't it? He casts the curse, and I spend the next two hours breaking it, over and over again. He doesn't look satisfied. 

  
  


"Look, I've done it about fifty times!" I'm getting agitated, and that's not good at all.

  
  


"Yes, you have." He sighs, and rubs the bridge of his nose. A headache. Brilliant.

  
  


"Look...you take something for your head, and I'm gonna calm down, and we're gonna do this." I tell him. "And we're going to be celebrated, and they'r going to be reading about us in the history books ten years from now!"

  
  


"And they had best spell our names right."

  
  


"They will." I smile. We're going to be fucking heroes, after tonight. I tell you, it's true. In ten or fifteen years, there's not gonna be a kid in our world who doesn't know our names. We'll be fucking war heroes. We'll probably get a statue. How awesome is that? A statue!

  
  


"But I believe we should take your advice." He stands up, and now he's rubbing his temples. It's a Bad Headache. Yeah, we can't do this if he's got one of those.

  
  


"Come on...I'll give you a back rub."

  
  


He just looks at me for a minute, and then he nods. We head back to his rooms-which I'm determined to make into our rooms-and he sinks down onto the bed.

  
  


"Do what you must, as long as it's gone by the time we leave." 

  
  


"Then take off your shirt, and lay down." I grin at the way he looks at me. Sort of outraged, and then just prim. He strips off his shirt, and lays down on his stomach. I straddle his hips, and I behave. I want to roll him over and kiss him and have another round of amazing sex, but that's not going to help his head. So I just work on his back. He's silent. Creepily so.

  
  


"Better?" I ask him, after a while. He nods, at least I think it's a nod. It's hard to tell. I keep up though. We've got the time. "Hey..." I ask.

  
  


"Mmm?"

  
  


"What do you plan on doing, when we've won?"

  
  


"I've no idea." He sighs, and looks over his shoulder at me. "What do *you* want to do?"

  
  


"I dunno. Play Quidditch professional, maybe. Course, ten you'd have to travel with me..."

  
  


"I've no desire to travel."

  
  


"Aw, shatter my dreams." I lay down over him, and it feels good. I love this whole new dynamic to our relationship. "So what would you rather we do?"

  
  


"I've no idea. I've considered perhaps an apothecary." 

  
  


"We have simple dreams....we're going to be rich beyond our wildest dreams." I realize this suddenly. I mean, that's why we're here. "We can...get a huge house, and stay in bed all day..."

  
  


"That would get boring." He points out.

  
  


"Well, fine. I'll have my own Quidditch stadium and you can have....a huge desk with lots of beakers and caskets and vials and thing."

  
  


"Vials and things?" I can practically hear his eyebrow going up. "It warms my heart, knowing how much you pay attention to what I do."

  
  


"You do things with vials." I shrug. There ends my knowledge of his craft. "But it sounds pretty damn good, doesn't it?"

  
  


"Mmm." He rolls over under me, and I love him on his back. "Yes, it's a rather appealing ideal."

  
  


"And we're going to have it." I kiss him. How can I not, when he's under me with his hair spread over the pillow and his lips sort of parted. He closes his eyes when I kiss him. 

  
  


"As long as you stay focused..."

  
  


I know he's teasing now. He rarely does it, and I love it when he does. I just laugh, and kiss him again, and we end up all tangled together and breathing heavily.

  
  


We manage to kill time, though. And now it's time to go.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	4. IV

  
  
  
  


Well, we've certainly gotten some interesting guesses. But as I mentioned, one of the characters is *very* obscure. As in was mentioned in the books perhaps once or twice. So the pairings it *isn't* are: Harry/Ron, Sirius/Lupin, and there are no Malfoys involved. Nor is it Percy and Oliver. And I'm not giving the names. The whole piece is going to be done without names. 

  
  


But I must tip my hat to KD. My dear, you are the closest by far! So very, very close...and yes, Karkaroff is random, but we're looking for even *more* obscure. :-) 

  
  


And we switch again!

  
  
  
  


In Love and War

IV

  
  
  
  


It is time.

  
  


Regardless of our preparation, I cannot help but have my doubts. I am always....on edge, before these things. He is not. He looks as a puppy, bouncing and wriggling about, anxious to be on our way. 

  
  


"Would you *please* calm yourself?" I demand.

  
  


"Oh, relax. This is how I prep." He flashes me one of those insufferable grins of his. He's practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as I gather what I need. A few small vials, easily slipped into the pouch on my belt. All he takes is his wand, it is all he needs. My talent, however, lies in more tangible fields. 

  
  


"Come." We are to Apparate to just outside the wards around the building, and then proceed on foot from there. But I have convinced him to apparate a bit farther away, just to be on the safe side. I do not doubt our spy's information, he is in fact *quite* in the know. And he isn't the sort of spy who is going to risk angering *us*.

  
  


"I'm coming." Another grin. Lord, but that irks me. 

  
  


As does Apparation. There is something about it I simply do not like. I understand that yes, it is effective and useful, but I still do not like it.

  
  


"Here we are." He puts an arm around my waist. He touches far too much.

  
  


"Now is not the time." I hiss, batting his hand away. "Break the wards."

  
  


"Relax." He cracks his knuckles, strolling along like he's out for a jaunt. It amazes me how he can be so nonchalant. As though we were...out on a date, for the love of Merlin.

  
  


"Careful..." He's getting dangerously close to the wards.

  
  


"Calm. Down." He shakes his head at me, and slips his wand out. I cannot help but worry. We are now here. It is happening. He hunches down, leaning back on his heels. I cannot pretend to fully understand what it is he is doing. Much I as I intrigued by curses and hexes, I find I have not the aptitude for them. He mutters a few words, and suddenly e is much different.

  
  


It is only now that he is focused, alert. Every fiber in his being is in tune, and narrowed onto his one task. I can simply watch him, awaiting my role in his endeavor.

  
  


"There." He stands up. There is a faint shimmer, and then nothing. "Primary ward's down. Let's go. Stay behind me, I'm gonna be shooting out testers every five or so steps."

  
  


*Now* he decides not to take chances. I simply do not understand him. But I decide I look the serious cast to his features. It is intense and unfamiliar. I see it so rarely. I follow diligently behind, whispering instructions as we go. I have the map. 

  
  


"Wait..." He holds up his hand, wand out. This place is disturbing in the dark. I do not like the way our footsteps echo, or the way shadows appear to be adversaries. 

  
  


"What is it?"

  
  


"The conspectus." He tells me. I nod, and await for him to disarm it. A simple flick of his wrist, and he tells me it is safe to go on. I have never felt quite like this before. There is a certain air of...well, I honestly cannot place it. But this task carries far more importance then any other we have been set to. There is something in the air. He looks over his shoulder at me, and his intense look is broken by his trademark gamine grin. He feels it too.

  
  


"Love you." He tells me. He is taking advantage in the change of our relationship. I will have to have a word with him on that. But now I simply nod. Yes, this is a fine time to exchange those sorts of things. We're on the brink of winning this ridiculous war-that shouldn't even be a war.

  
  


"You know what we should do...." I don't like the look he's giving me.

  
  


"We should get those documents as soon as possible." I say firmly. He nods, and continues walking. "Take this left." I tell him.

  
  


Merlin, but I do not like this place devoid of life. It is far too large to be so empty. "We have to go down a floor...."

  
  


"I know." He nods. "The elevator's charmed. Give me a minute..."

  
  


A minute turns into five. He frowns. Five turns to ten. This does not bode well. What is the matter? He is frowning, and it does not sit well with me. His blithe manner earlier is coming back to haunt us, I fear. He offers no explanation, no assurances that he is working out whatever it is on the damn elevator. 

"What's wrong?" I ask.

  
  


"Demorsicus." He spits the word out, as though it is something vile. "That spying little rat didn't say a thing about Demorsicus!"

  
  


"Is that a problem?" Well, obviously it is if he is taking ten minutes to break it. He claims there is nothing he cannot break, nothing he cannot disarm. Apparently not.

  
  


"It's a wicked advanced version of Impedemtia." He tells me, standing up. "And on top of that, it's got some strings attached. If I break it, it sets off an alarm. If I disarm that, the spell locks."

  
  


I am assuming, that by locking, the spell is set, and cannot be removed at all. It is rarely done. That they would risk something like that tells me they expect something. They have prepared for us, and even our clever little spy hasn't found all of their traps. Taking a deep breath, I press on. "What, exactly, are you saying?".

  
  


"We can't use the elevator."

  
  


"And how, then, are we supposed to get down?" He-Who-Swore-Nothing-Could-Go-Wrong. Things are *very* much going wrong. 

  
  


"Give me a minute." He fold his arms, and he's thinking. This is not good. We cannot return without those documents! 

  
  


"We must think of a way..."

  
  


"I know!" He waves his hand at me. "We're just going to have to do it the old fashioned way."

  
  


"What is that?" I am having sever doubts.

  
  


"We make a hole in the floor...."

  
  


"We cannot do that!" Is he raving? "Come. I'd imagine there to be stairs...."

  
  


"Let me go first!" He practically shoves me from in front of him. Does he think I cannot spot alarms myself? But he seems to feel better ahead of me. Every so often we must stop. I check the map, and he checks for unwelcome surprises. Eventually, we make our way to a flight of stairs leading down.

  
  


"You know..." He hesitates, and rakes his hair out of his eyes. "I'm not liking this all too much..."

  
  


"Nor am I, but it must be done."

  
  


"Well....he'd understand...."

  
  


"Are you *mad*?" He must be. He has gone mad tonight, that is the only explanation. "It does not matter how important or trusted we are, if we return without these plans he *will* have our hides for a cloak!"

  
  


"You're exaggerating..." But he says nothing more on it. "I just have a bad feeling."

  
  


"I always ave a bad feeling, and nothing comes of it. You said yourself, nothing can go wrong." I feel we are heading towards a fight. That will not do.

  
  


"I know, I know." He sighs. "We're wasting time, come on. I want to get this done, and go home to bed. *Your* bed."

  
  


"Yes yes." I allow him to go down the stairs before me. He seems satisfied that there is nothing of danger here. We continue out into the corridor.

  
  


"This place gives me the willies." He says, idly checking for hexes.

  
  


"Yes."

  
  


"I mean, I don't even like it in the daytime. It's like an anthill or something. I couldn't work here, I'd go mad." He wrinkles his nose. 

  
  


"Mmm." I am inclined to agree with him. This place is...sterile, almost. There is an order and rigidity about it that unnerves me. I would rather slit my own wrists then subject myself to a 'desk job'.

  
  


"I think we're almost there...." He tells me. Everything in the bloody place looks alike. Door after door, blank hallway after blank hallway. "Check the map."

  
  


"Yes, we've a few more rooms." We are almost there. As long a he can deal with that forsaken ensiscaria we will be home free. And heroes. 

  
  


"Wait!" He pauses, and looks very much like a cat who has spotted a mouse. He turns, head cocked as though listening.

  
  


"What?"

  
  


"Shhh!" He hushes me, and my blood chills at the look of fear that crosses his features. All color drains from his face. He swallows dryly, and when he speaks his voice is a hoarse whisper:

  
  


"We're not alone...."

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  



	5. V

  
  
  
  
  
  


LMFA! I got the funniest review for this: "YOu should stick only with the Harry Potter characters and not bring in outside characters and please redo your plot and what's with the mystery people?  
Outside of hogwarts is boring.  
This would have promise and you should check over with a beta reader if possible.  
I also noticed that some of the plot is taken from the movie In love and war, well it doesn't work very well in a Harry Potter fic and you should stick with the premise of Hogwarts and the characters."

  
  


Oh, but I just have to address this! One: All characters herein *are* in the Harry Potter books. I just don't use their names. Redo my plot? Why? What's wrong with it, that I should redo? 

  
  


I never state where any of this is taking place. It very well could be taking place in Hogwarts. Some of it did, obviously, since flashbacks happen there.

  
  


This would have promise if what? I think you missed a sentence. And it *has* been checked by a beta. ::waves to her slash beta:: 

  
  


There's a movie? ::Looks around blinking:: That involves a war against an evil wizard, and two spies? Oh, and let's not forget a boarding school, and magic! Awesome, I want to see it! But honestly, I've never seen a movie by that name, and if there are any similarities, would someone point them out to me?

  
  


Er...I rather thought that the war against Voldemort, Quidditch, spells, wands, invisibility cloaks, potions, Harry Potter Characters, places and ideas *was* the premise. Oh my, guess I'm a real idiot then. :-) Of course, when the review itself is full of errors, I'm not going to take it too seriously.

  
  
  
  
  
  


In Love and War

V

  
  


We're not alone. I can hear them, above us. There's maybe...two. I look at him, and I swallow nervously. Okay, so something's gone wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong. I used a charm, to enhance my hearing, just in case. And he says I'm not careful...

  
  


"I don't suppose..." He says, quietly. "That they're simply working late?"

  
  


"I doubt it." I shake my head. It's after midnight. The only explanation is the worst one, and we both know it. He's got his wand out now, and my fist is closed tight over mine.

  
  


"Do they know we're hear?"

  
  


"I don't know!" Like I can read minds? He's the one with that sort of talent!

  
  


"We have to keep going." He says, and there's this weird light in his eyes that I've never seen before. No, I have. That night in the dorm room. That night when he came in late, and he was shaking. He's scared. Which terrifies me, because he's never scared.

  
  


"We can't!" He can't be serious.

  
  


"He will kill us!" He insists. I don't know where this sudden obsession with us being expendable comes from.

  
  


"No, he won't. This is...for merlin's sake, there's probably Auror's right above our heads!" I hiss. He frowns, and glances at the ceiling above us.

  
  


"They're up there..."

  
  


"And we have to go there to get out!" I can't believe we're even having this argument! It's madness!

  
  


"We have to get those documents!" His voice is sort of high now. I don't like this. I'm afraid he's going to lose it.

  
  


"Just calm down." I tell him. "Look....I don't know if they're here because it's standard to guard the Ministry building with Aurors, or if they know we're here. But I'm guessing, since Mr. Perfect Spy didn't mention them...either he's more of a rat then we thought, or they're here because we're here."

  
  


"Then they are here because we are here." He says, running a hand over his face. "Pettigrew wouldn't try anything like this, not so soon."

  
  


"Okay." We're getting somewhere now. "So that means that they're going to be down here, soon. Abandon the plans. We need to save our hides. He'll understand."

  
  


"Yes..." He's finally seeing reason. "There must be another way out of here."

  
  


"Get out the map."

  
  


The footsteps are getting closer. Of course. Damn it! I left a trail of disarmed traps! They can follow them right to us!

  
  


"Hurry up!" I hiss, he looks up at me, almost flustered. I know I must sound in a panic, and I am. If we don't ac fast, we're going to die.

  
  


How can this have happened? Where did we screw up? Everything was *perfect*! Did I miss something? An alarm, a detection spell....I couldn't have, but that's all there is to it. I messed up, like he always tells me I'm going to do, and we're going to die for it. *He's* going to die for it.

  
  


"Yes...there's another way out, but it's a bit of a long shot..." He frowns.

  
  


"That's all we've got." I say. 

  
  


"We'll never make it in time."

  
  


Fear is really setting in now. We're stuck. We were supposed to have those cloaks. He promised us cloaks. Okay, that's hysteria setting in. I need to get a grip. We're not dead yet. We can still walk out of this, if we're careful. Well, one of us can.

  
  


"How far is it?" I ask. Footsteps on the stairs. Holy fuck, they're on the stairs.

  
  


"I...I don't know exactly. It's here!" He jabs his finger at the map. "And we're here!"

  
  


Oh. Yes. That is a rather long ways away. He's right. With them after us, and me having to stop to break every thing in our way...

  
  


"All right." My mind's working damn fast now. I study the map. "There's nothing major between us and it. A few little things, but nothing that will kill us if we trip them..."

  
  


"It does not matter!" He exclaims. "We cannot make it!"

  
  


"You can."

  
  


He looks at me, uncomprehending. 

  
  


"Pardon?" He's so calm, in that instance.

  
  


"Go." I tell him. It's the only way, really. And who knows, I'm good with a curse. I can probably kill them. I mean, we're trained for this sort of thing. I'll be fine.

  
  


"Are you mad?" He's looking at me like I am.

  
  


"No. I'll be fine. Look...even if they get me, they're not going to kill me immediately. They'll want to question me. In that time, I expect a full fledged rescue mission."

  
  


"This is suicide." He states flatly.

  
  


"Did you just hear me?" They're on our floor. "Look...we don't have time! Go!" I have to shove him, and he's like iron under my hands. He stumbles a bit, and he's still just staring at me like I'm a moron. 

  
  


"I...I am not going to simply leave you..."

  
  


"Yes. You are." We just don't have the time for this! "I'll be fine, you know it. I save your arse now, you save my arse later!"

  
  


He's thinking it over, I can see it in his eyes. He's really torn. It's touching, but it's stupid. We're Slytherins...despite the fact that what I'm doing is highly Gryffindor.

  
  


"Come on..." I urge. "Remember last night, you asked me if I ever wanted to be like them? Well here's my chance."

  
  


"I will come back for you."

  
  


"I know." Of course he will! I'll kill him if he doesn't. I'm doing the noble thing for once, so can he. All of this has been for him. I don't serve any Lord, I serve my own heart. And my heart follows him.

  
  


"And *this* will certainly be in the history books."

  
  


"I know, I know. Now just get out of here!" They're almost on us. He has to get out now. If he goes now, if they don't see him, they never have to know he was here. I won't tell them. They can flay me alive, and his name would never escape my lips.

  
  


"I love you."

  
  


"Oh, *now* you get all sentimental! Horrid time. I love you too. Go!"

  
  


He finally listens. He nods, and he turns and heads down towards the other exit. I take up a defensive stance. If I hide, they could still get him. I'll die before that happens. I've lived my life for him, I'm not going to stop now. It doesn't matter what happens. I know he'll come for me. He'll get a fucking army together and come for me if he has to. Because we can be just like them, when we want to be.

  
  


We're all the same, really. They never got that, not one of them, back in school. Houses, rank, all of that doesn't matter. For merlin's sake look at our precious spy? Pettigrew was one of them. And now he's one of us. He's a black hearted, whiny little thing. He's like this puppy who'll lick the hand of any master who treats him well. We're ten times what he is. 

  
  


He betrayed his friends. He's playing the game, he's serving the Dark Lord. He's a turncoat of the worst kind. I could never do that. To be loyal and devoted for so long, and then turn when things got bad. If I did, I wouldn't be here now. 

  
  


They won't kill me. They'll want to question me. That's what they do. I'm gonna be fine. It's just another little hitch, is all...

  
  


They're here. This is it.

  
  


I'm just glad he knows I love him.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. VI

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Author's Note: This is it folks, the final chapter. And since Character Two is so damn obvious, his name is used. Character One's name never is, but really, he's so damn obscure anyway. But there's a select few who ought to figure out...

  
  


Hope you enjoyed this, I enjoyed writing it.

  
  
  
  


In Love and War

VI

  
  
  
  


Nothing can go wrong? *Nothing* can go wrong? I have told him, time and time again that he must be careful! And now look at where it has gotten us!

  
  


I suppose, things could be going much worse. He is correct, I am forced to admit. He is skilled with curses and in dueling, there is a good chance-if there are only one or two-that he can hold them off, perhaps even kill them. And if not...our lord will not leave him in the hands of Aurors. If only to make certain he keeps his mouth shut.

  
  


I can hear them, barely, far behind me. He does seem to be doing a rather good job. I am of half a mind to go back, but that would be foolish. 

  
  


Eventually, I find myself out of the building. I have no idea where I am, or if I am beyond the wards or not. I am on a muggle street, that much I am certain. I cannot risk Apparating this close to the building. I walk, as nonchalantly as I can. It does not matter there is no one here to see me at the moment. 

  
  


Once far enough away by my judgements, I send myself quickly back to the Dark Lord's manor. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I do not like the way my hands are shaking. My hands do not shake.

  
  


It is the dead of night, but I know he will be awake. He is always awake, I believe. And he has been alerted of my return. My solo return. I cannot help but be nervous. This man...he is a vengeful being. I serve him yes, because I believe he will come out on top. But I do not like him much.

  
  


I am escorted to his study. He is in a dark green dressing robe, and he is spinning a globe, idly. He looks remarkably relaxed.

  
  


"Ah....you have returned. Where is your companion?" He does not even look at me. I drop to one knee, eyes on the floor.

  
  


"There were Auror's, my lord." I tell him, my heart still pounding. I abhor this emotion, fear. It is weak and useless, but I cannot escape it tis night.

  
  


"He is dead, then?"

  
  


"No, my lord." I shake my head. "Not that I know of."

  
  


"And the documents?"

  
  


"Still at the ministry..." This is the part I have been dreading. He is looking at me now, and I feel as a mouse must feel when caught in the eyes of a serpent.

  
  


"You did not get them?"

  
  


"Aurors, my lord..." I repeat, stupidly. I am going to die.

  
  


"You had your priorities."

  
  


"I am sorry my lord."

  
  


"How is it, then, that the hounds of the Ministry found you?" I hate his voice. It is slick and low, and it speaks of my death.

  
  


"I do not know." I do not. "We encountered every trap we were told of...and more so. We were forced to take an alternate route..."

  
  


"And you did not check well enough?"

  
  


"We did." I watched him.

  
  


"Not well enough....they will move them." He sighs, and rests his head on his hand. "You must follow them, you understand."

  
  


"But...my lord...I do not know where they will be taken..."

  
  


"You are not a stupid man. They will be moved somewhere safe...somewhere impenetrable..."

  
  


"Hogwarts." I breathe the word. I cannot possibly sneak into the school!

  
  


"You will go there."

  
  


"You wish me to sneak in, unaided, under Dumbledore's nose?" The world has gone mad, and our lord with it. 

  
  


"You will not sneak." He stands up, and he is grinning as though he has thought of something terribly clever. "You will go to that old fool...tell him you have seen the error of your ways...beg sanctuary." He glances at me from the corner of his eye.

  
  


It is madness. I will be handed over to the Aurors. 

  
  


"And....?"

  
  


"What?" He cocks his head. 

  
  


"What of my companion?"

  
  


"What of him? He was stupid enough to get himself caught, he deserves all he gets. You will leave in the morning. That is all." 

  
  


I am dismissed. He turns his back on me, and I leave his study.

  
  


I am...enraged is too weak a word. Deserving? I gave him my word. I told him I would come for him. I certainly cannot storm Azkaban, but I will do what I must. He did that, for me. It is touching, and utterly foreign. We...we do not do these things. But he has. I have always thought him to be something remarkable. 

  
  


I cannot find sleep. I toss and turn, in the bed where we lay together, and it eludes me. I can think only of him, of the look in his eyes as he told me to flee. He cared little for his safety, only for mine. It is amazing, this selfless love.

  
  


If they could only see it. I am touched, deeply, by his feelings for me. Surely I return them, but...

  
  


It is as a puzzle in my mind. I work it over, hoping to glean something more from it. He has possibly given over his life, for mine. Would I have done the same? Most likely yes. For him, at least. 

  
  


I wonder where he is now. The noble minded Aurors...they go about, pretending that they give their captors tea and crumpets. I am rather certain they are far more...persuasive in their interrogation techniques. I can only hope that he is well. I know it is a vain hope, but one that eases me all the same.

  
  


I find it is morning. I have lain awake the night, my heart a lump of ice somewhere near the bottom of my throat. I cannot fathom this. I had assume the Dark Lord would....

  
  


But I must be realistic. He does not care for the individual, only for the result. And I have devoted myself to this man? I am disgusted.

  
  


I am also ignored. It is as though no one cares. I am beginning to realize that perhaps I have chosen my sides unwisely. But I have been given-remarkably-a slim chance at redemption.

  
  


I will go to Dumbledore. And I will beg sanctuary, but in earnest. I will tell...most of what I know. There are some things I am bound-magically-to keep secret. But those I am not, I will gladly pour into his ears. For a favor, of course.

  
  


I am not stupid. I will give, as long as I will get. It is all I can do, it is his only chance.

  
  


I do not prepare, there is no preparing. I Apparate-hopefully for the last time-from the Lord's manor. To Hogsmeade. I walk the rest of the ay to the school. I have not even changed from the day before. I do not care. There is one thing on my mind, and that is a man with laughing green eyes and copper hair. I made him a promise, and I am going to keep it.

  
  


I am allowed in the school. The Headmaster will see me. I am nervous, of course. This is a difficult thing, for even the most stoic. I am ushered into his office, told to sit. I am tempted to look about me, but I do not. I keep my eyes on my hands, folded in my lap.

  
  


There is always the chance he will not listen, but I doubt it. He is a kind and forgiving man. Eventually, I hear the rustle of fabric that alerts me to his presence.

  
  


"Ah. Severus. I must say this is quite a surprise." 

  
  


I look up now. He his sitting down across from me. I find that now I cannot form words. My heart is still stuck in my damned throat. I clear it, and my fingers flex and clench in my lap.

  
  


"Headmaster." I say, and my voice is tight.

  
  


"To what do I owe this visit?"

  
  


As though he does not know. He isn't a foolish man, by any stretch of the imagination. 

  
  


"I have information for you." I tell him, my eyes focused on the desk between us.

  
  


"Oh? And what sort?"

  
  


He is insufferable! I clench my teeth, forcing myself to be calm. We are wasting precious time. But he does not know this.

  
  


"Headmaster, I did not come here to play games. You know exactly the sort of information I am offering you." My eyes remain on his desk.

  
  


"Yes...yes, I suppose I do." He sighs heavily. "May I ask, however, why you are here?"

  
  


"I would imagine you know that as well." I force out through gritted teeth.

  
  


"Yes, you never were one to admit you had made a mistake." His voice is tired. "But I am thankful you have."

  
  


"I will give you names, and plans." I say, my eyes finally raising to meet his. "But they do not come free..."

  
  


"They wouldn't, would they? Severus, I can offer you limited protection..."

  
  


"No." I shake my head. I have little care for myself.

  
  


"No?" He raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "What is it then?"

  
  


"Last night....at the ministry...." I cannot quite form the words.

  
  


"Yes, Auror's apprehended a young Death Eater attempting to steal some very important documents..."

  
  


"He is...close to me." I choose my words carefully. "I...I was there, also." I force out the words. I must be honest with Dumbledore, or he will give me nothing. "He...he was captured in an attempt to allow me to escape."

  
  


"An attempt that succeeded, I see." 

  
  


"Yes....The Dark Lord was not pleased, when our mission failed. He instructed me to come here, to lay myself at your feet and beg forgiveness."

  
  


"To use you." Dumbledore says.

  
  


"Yes." I nod. "I have no desire to serve him."

  
  


"A noble sentiment." He nods. "Please name your price?"

  
  


"My companion." I state simply. "I want him released, and pardoned. I know it is in your power."

  
  


I watch him carefully, just as he watches me. He is silent, for a long while. He folds his hands, and his eyes study mine. I've a good idea what he is doing, and I allow it. I could stop him if I wished, but let him see. Let him validate my words with my mind. He sighs, and lowers his gaze.

  
  


"Severus...I am sorry."

  
  


I do not quite understand his words. He looks old and fragile, in this moment.

  
  


"For what?"

  
  


"There...there is nothing I can do."

  
  


"There is." I know that. He holds strings, the minister worships him!

  
  


"No...you misunderstand. There is nothing anyone can do."

  
  


His words are daggers through me. His eyes are kind, but I do not care. I must have mistaken him. He cannot mean what I think.

  
  


"Headmaster...?"

  
  


"I am very sorry." He tells me. "This is a war..."

  
  


"I am well aware what this is!" I should not have left him.

  
  


"It was quick, I understand."

  
  


Cold comfort. He is dead. The words are vicious. It should have been me. Had I stayed, he would have gotten the documents. He would have escaped, and been rewarded. He would have his bloody giant house, and his Quidditch pitch....

"You are welcome here..."

  
  


"No." I stand up. He allowed him to die! His stupid plans, and his stupid missions and his stupid cause!

  
  


"Severus." Dumbledore stands as well. "I understand. You are upset."

  
  


"Upset is hardly the word." Anger, I find, is the foremost emotion within me. And something that is a cousin of guilt. 

  
  


"We could very much use your information..." His voice is kind, and I find myself sinking back down into the chair.

  
  


"And you will vouch for me?"

  
  


"I will do what I can..." He says.

  
  


"The Dark Lord must believe I am spying...." Even all of the headmaster's protection will not lend itself to me when it comes to him. 

  
  


"And he shall." Dumbledore nods. "Would you be, perhaps willing....?"

  
  


"To spy for you, instead?" Oh, what a day this has turned to be. "Yes, fine." I wish to be alone with my grief, when it comes.

  
  


"Yes, this is hardly the time." He says. "You will be shown to a room...I will speak with you later. When you've...rested."

  
  


"Yes." 

  
  


I allow myself to be led away, and locked in a room. I know it is locked, and I do not care. He trusts me, but not that much. I lay on the bed, and my mind goes to him.

  
  


Dead. He is not supposed to be dead. We are to be together, remembered in story and song. We were to be heros...

  
  


And he is dead, and I am twice a turncoat. How often we fail. All our dreams, shattered. He is gone, and I am alone. Perhaps the Dark Lord will know, and I will die as well. It doesn't seem such a bad thing, really. 

  
  


I want to cry for him, but I find I have no tears. There is simply a cold and empty void inside of me. I hold close is memory, turning it over and over in my mind. Ten years, at least, and now nothing. He is gone. And for me. He died for me. It is a...staggering thought. His life has ended, so that mine may continue.

  
  


I will see the Dark Lord fall for this. I will see him avenged. He had no right fighting anyway. He was never a fighter, only in my defense. Everything he has done, has been for me. He has always put myself before him...to the end. I only wish I had done as much for him.

  
  


I can do nothing for him now, save remember him. He will never be written of in history books, save for as a statistic. His name will not be hailed, there will be no monuments or tributes in his name. But I will remember him. 

  
  
  
  


And at least he knew that I loved him.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Fin


End file.
